


Browsing History

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Bit Of Sweet As Well Because You Know How We Are, Control, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, PWP, Porn, Restraints, Teasing, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John leaves Sherlock a clue about something he's interested in investigating, and Sherlock naturally obliges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Clue

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe.
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

When Sherlock woke up, he looked towards the window. It was dark out. He rolled over and looked at the clock. It was eight at night. He'd been sleeping for almost twenty hours. He hadn't planned to, but this often happened after cases. He got so focused -- so determined -- that things like sleep or food never crossed his mind. He stretched in the bed a bit and then dragged himself out, slipping his dressing gown around him.

There was only one lamp on in the flat. John was clearly out. He looked around for a note and found it. Sherlock was relieved that John wasn't on a date -- for some reason, he quite liked interrupting John's dates, but he didn't want to rush and start texting. Apparently John was out at the pub with some guy called Greg. Whatever. He'd probably come home a bit drunk, but at least Sherlock could take the night off from harassing him.

He turned on another lamp and moved to the kitchen to put the kettle on. He rinsed his cup as he waited for it to boil. Once it had, he took the tea to his desk. He needed to find a new case.

Sherlock had no new emails and no comments on the blog. It was annoying. He clicked through some newspapers, trying to find a crime he could figure out. He read a few separate pieces and wondered if there were connections between the different crimes. He opened his browsing history to go back, and that's when he noticed a full page of visits. That was unusual. He always deleted his history, but now it was much fuller than it should be. Had John be using his computer while he'd been sleeping? He glanced down to see the names of the sites. 

Yes, John had been on this computer.

Sherlock didn't really care about John's porn habit -- he didn't understand it himself and he occasionally liked to tease him about it, but in truth he didn't care what John did in that department. But not on Sherlock's computer. Those sites weren't trustworthy, and Sherlock didn't like them connected to the same laptop he used for work. Why would John use his computer? And why wouldn't he delete the history?

Did he want Sherlock to see something?

Sherlock clicked on a couple of the links. He didn't watch much of any of them, but the images and titles revealed two surprising facts: the people having sex with each other were men and bondage was involved in each scene.  
  
Interesting.

Sherlock had always assumed John watched videos with men and women. The one time he'd caught him watching, a big breasted blond woman had been on the screen. And John only dated women -- he announced that he liked women at every single opportunity. Was he just curious? Did he want Sherlock to know he was curious?  
  
Interesting indeed.

He stood up and closed his laptop. He went into the bathroom and showered and then put on a clean pair of pajamas. He went back into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine to wait for John's return.

John was relaxing at the pub. John had come after work to find Sherlock practically dead to the world. He tried waiting for him to wake up for dinner, stacked things on him, and even knocked a pile of pans off the worktop, hoping the noise might work raise Sherlock, but nothing did. Bored, he left and got his own dinner, ringing Greg and then meeting him for a pint at a pub nearby. One turned into a few more than one, and it wasn't until John realised the time that he said he had to head back. Greg teased him about getting home to the 'old ball and chain' but John just laughed it off and left, walking home for some fresh air.

He arrived at the flat feeling a little bit clearer. He really hadn't had that much at the pub, but it had been a while since he'd drunk much at all. He climbed up and was surprised to find Sherlock up and drinking wine. "Decided to join the living, did you?" he smiled, hanging his coat on the hook by the door.

"I did," Sherlock said. "Did you have a good time with your friend?" he asked. He poured another glass of wine and walked over to hand it to John before moving over to his desk.

"Our friend, Sherlock. It was Greg. Lestrade," he clarified, taking the glass of wine. "I did. I had enough with him, though, so I don't think I want this." He watched Sherlock move to his desk and his stomach flipped nervously. He had left behind a hint, a clue that could have gone unnoticed if anyone but Sherlock was looking for it. What if he mentioned it and wasn't interested? He drank a big swallow of the wine. He hadn't thought of that.

As he looked over at John, Sherlock also took another sip of wine. "You tired? You going to bed then?" he asked slyly.

"I'm not tired," John said. "Are you . . . do you have a case?"

"No," Sherlock said, opening his laptop. "I thought we could watch a movie." He started to play one of the videos but didn't turn the laptop. John wouldn't be able to see the screen, but he could hear the sounds. He took another sip of wine.

John thought it was strange that Sherlock wanted to see a movie at the desk. Then he heard the sounds and he flushed darkly, staying near the door. He hadn't expected to be called out like this either. "I -- very funny," he said, hoping to pull off the idea that he thought Sherlock was teasing him.

Sherlock smiled. "Is it?" he asked. "Is it funny to you? Or does it affect you in a different way?" He looked down at the screen as if he were studying the details.

"Don't watch that," John said a bit sharply. Being ignored or called out was one thing, but he wouldn't stand here and get made fun of. "It's a joke . . . just . . .turn it off." John drained his glass and went to the sink. 

Sherlock closed the laptop. "A joke?" he asked. "So you don't find it . . . arousing?"

John ignored Sherlock, sipping at his dwindling wine.

"It's quite bright in here," Sherlock said, even though, of course, it wasn't. "Should we continue this conversation in my room?" he asked, getting up and taking his now empty glass to the sink.

"I don't think it's bright. . ." John said quietly, trying to move around him.

"All right . . ." Sherlock said. "I've invited you. I've given you an invitation. You can do whatever you choose." Sherlock walked into his bedroom, hoping John would follow.

John watched him leave. Invited for what, exactly? He glanced at the computer and wondered -- could it be? He shut the light off and went to Sherlock's room slowly. "Invited for what?" he asked softly from the door.

Sherlock's body warmed when he realised John had followed him. "I don't know," he said. "I just thought you might be in the mood to come into my room." He lay down on his bed. "Would you like to sit down?"

John hesitated for a moment before be moved and sat on the very edge. "I'm sorry I used your computer like that," he said, just in case Sherlock was upset and was leading John here for an epic pouting session.

"Hmmm," Sherlock mumbled. He sat up and reached over to the bedside table, opened the drawer and took out two pairs of handcuffs, which he set on the bed. "You're forgiven," he added and leaned back against the headboard.


	2. The Investigation Begins

John couldn't help looking over at the movement. He flushed when he saw the cuffs, glad that Sherlock's room was darker. "Did you steal those from Greg as well?" he asked, trying to move away from the thoughts in his head -- tying Sherlock to that head board, peeling his clothes away and . . . He looked down at his own hands.

"I bought these with my hard earned money," Sherlock said. He put one around his right wrist and then lifted it to cuff his hand to the headboard. He pushed the other one towards John. "Will you help me with this one?" he asked, lifting his left hand to the other post. He watched John's face closely, wondering if this was something John had imagined.

John was still avoiding looking at Sherlock, afraid that this was going to turn out to be some kind of joke. He hadn't been thinking about men like this for very long. Technically he still wasn't. He was just thinking about Sherlock a lot more. He had been curious and found himself falling into a rabbit hole of different ideas to explore. He cuffed Sherlock's hand to the bed post, noticing that he was now half hard. That was the last thing he needed at the moment.

"I'm in your hands now, John," Sherlock said softly. "In that drawer, there are three keys. Two are for the cuffs -- you can take them off me and walk out of this room at any time." He swallowed. His whole body was warm. He didn't want John to leave. "The third key is for a box under my bed. You can open it if you'd like."

John moved to the drawer and recognised the small keys for the cuffs. He glanced at Sherlock and picked the bigger one. He knelt on the ground and slid the box out, unlocking it and opening the top. Oh. He flushed again. The box had Sherlock's riding crop in it, lube, condoms, a couple different plugs, and a dildo. "Sherlock . . ." he murmured, staring into the box. "I -- I only watch the videos. I've never . . . I've not actually tried anything . . . "

"John," Sherlock said, keeping his voice soft but steady. "Turn your head towards me for a moment."

John lifted his head and finally looked at Sherlock, meeting his gaze.

"It's me . . . you know me," Sherlock said softly. "I know what to do. I can help you . . . try." He looked at John's handsome face. "Do you want to touch me?" he asked quietly.

John nodded. "I really do . . . I have for a while," he admitted.

"Leave my pajama bottoms on," Sherlock instructed. "Touch me through them," he added.

John looked at Sherlock's face for a moment before he reached out slowly and put his hand over Sherlock's cock. He was hard as well. John palmed gently, rubbing along the shaft through the thin material.

Sherlock closed his eyes and exhaled at John's touch. "That feels good," he said softly. He lifted his hips a little, pressing himself against John's hand. Then he opened his eyes and looked at John. In all honesty, he couldn't tell if this was meeting John's fantasy -- Sherlock had given up control to John, which he seemed to respond to, but he seemed so tentative about the box that Sherlock wasn't sure now if perhaps it was submission John was into. He would need to play a little bit with both to figure it out.

"Get the lube," Sherlock instructed. "Take off my pajamas now, pour some lube in your hand, and touch me properly." He watched closely for John's response to the commands.

John nodded quickly, bending to get the lube and sitting up on the bed again. When he tugged Sherlock's pajamas down, he took the initiative to straddle his legs a bit so he was closer. He poured the lube and started stroking. "I pictured us in the movies . . ." he confessed, setting a steady pace.

"I see," Sherlock said before closing his eyes for a moment again, just to focus on the pleasure filling his body. "What do you want to do to me?" he whispered.

"Everything," John said, watching his hand moving over Sherlock's cock. "I want to taste you . . . I want to fill you . . . I want to feel you inside of me." The words came out softly, but steady and sure.

The confidence in John's voice was intriguing. Perhaps he did want to be the dominant one. "And what do you want to do right now?" he asked, letting his hips rock against John's stroke.

John licked his lips. "I want to take advantage of the fact you're cuffed to the bed," he said. He stopped stroking and moved to unbutton Sherlock's shirt.  He leaned in and kissed Sherlock's neck, biting softly as he moved lower. His fingers rubbed and pinched Sherlock's nipples. 

"God," Sherlock called. He lifted his hips in response to John's touches. He instinctively pulled on his hands to touch John back, but of course he couldn't. "Fuck . . ."

John moved lower, kissing over his chest, licking and biting at Sherlock's nipples. First one, then the other in slow movements.

"John, I need more . . ." Sherlock moaned softly. He lifted his hips again.

"Maybe I'll just stay doing this, and you couldn't do anything about it," John said, blowing cool air on his nipples before licking again. But then he started, very slowly, moving lower again.

Sherlock felt a split second of a panic, though he quickly realised it was only because things were not happening as he'd expected. What exactly had he been expecting? Actually, he hadn't been quite sure. He didn't regret starting this -- how could he when his body felt so good? "Just . . . don't be mean," he mumbled. He moved his hands again and then his legs. "Whatever you do to me . . . I don't want us to be mean," he said.

John stopped and pulled back. "I wasn't -- I'm sorry," he said. And just like that he was timid again, like he'd gone to far. "Tell me what to do," he mumbled.

Sherlock lifted his head. "No, John, don't stop . . ." he said. "What you were doing was perfect . . . I just don't want . . . some of the videos were mean. I don't want it to be like that." He tried to catch John's eye. "I put the cuffs on, John -- I trust you."

"I don't know what you don't like. I don't want to do it wrong," he said. "I was just teasing."

"You know me -- I'm impatient," Sherlock said, smiling a bit. "I'll show you what I like . . . touch me again."

John reached out and touched his cock again, stroking slowly, his thumb swiping over the tip.

Sherlock leaned back and closed his eyes again. "That's good," he exhaled. "A bit faster." He shifted his body a little in response. "Have you thought about the things in the box?" he asked.

John's hand caught for a moment before he nodded, picking up speed again. "Yeah," he said. 

"Whatever you want to do . . ." Sherlock said and then exhaled sharply. "Hold on, go slowly again . . . I'm too close."

John slowed his hand, watching Sherlock's face. He was so handsome. John reached down and picked up the dildo, bringing it onto the bed.

Sherlock's eyes closed again and his head dropped to the side. John may not have had much experience in being with a man, but he was doing an excellent job. When he opened his eyes and saw the dildo in John's hand, he mumbled, "Go slow . . . it's been a long time for me." 

John nodded, looking down at the toy. He poured more lube and used his fingers to rub Sherlock's entrance gently. 

"It's all right, John . . . I want you to," Sherlock reassured him breathily. His body was tense with anticipation.

John pushed his finger into Sherlock, looking up to watch his face.

Sherlock made a soft noise. "Yes . . . good," he moaned softly. "Keep going . . ."

John moved his finger in and out, leaning in to kiss his chest again.

"Kiss my mouth," Sherlock said.

John did, and when their lips met he pushed in a second finger.

Sherlock nipped at John's lip as John pulled his face away. "More," he almost growled. "You're making me crazy . . . I want more."

"Use that voice again," he said, teasing with a third finger.

"I don't know what voice I was using," Sherlock said, realising that he did sound different -- his breath had changed and his voice was lower. "Use the toy . . ." 

"No. Not until you do it again . . . the growl," John said. 

Sherlock pulled on his wrists. "Please," he said, doing his best to sound as John wanted him to. "I fucking need you to do it . . . please."

Not quite, but he was begging and being good, so John couldn't say no. John pulled his hand away, lubed the toy, and pushed it into Sherlock slowly. "Order me again."

"Harder and faster, John," Sherlock demanded. "Open me up because later you're going to fuck me."

John shivered and nodded, moving the toy in and out of Sherlock properly, pushing it all the way in before taking it out over and over. He kissed Sherlock's mouth again, his free hand burying into his hair. 

"Do you like this?" Sherlock mumbled into John's kiss. "What else do you want me to do?"

John pressed his forehead to Sherlock's, still moving the toy. "I want to taste you and then I want to fuck you and after I . . . I want you to do it me," he said.  

"Good," Sherlock said. "Put your mouth on me now."

John glanced down before shifting back a bit so he could lean down more easily. He glanced up at Sherlock once more before angling his cock and licking the tip. Then he swirled around the head, and then he took the whole head into his mouth. 

"You can stop anytime," Sherlock moaned. He did his best to keep his hips still. "Fuck, that feels good . . ."

John took a bit more, trying to get accustomed. It wasn't as difficult as he had thought it'd be. He moved in controlled movements, up and down, hollowing his cheeks. He wished he could take Sherlock deep and fast like he had seen in the videos. 

Sherlock closed his eyes for a few moments. He pressed his head against the pillow. "I'm totally at your mercy forever, you know, now that I know how well you do that," he mumbled. His voice was still rough and his breathing heavy.

John flushed and pulled off for a moment. "Don't patronise me," he said before leaning down to continue. Now that he had a better feel for it, he moved the toy as well.

"I appreciate you've not seen me in this state before, John," Sherlock moaned, pulling on his wrists again. "But trust me, you are basically driving me insane." He let out a low noise when John began working the toy as well.

After a few more movements, John pulled off again and paused moving the toy. "Do you have a condom?" he asked.  

"In the box . . ." Sherlock mumbled. "Please. . ." He knew he sounded a bit desperate, but he couldn't care because desperate was exactly how he felt.

John reached down for a condom before quickly stripping out of his own clothes. He rolled the condom on and poured a bit of lube. He licked his lips before pushing inside of him, his own mouth hanging open. 

"Oh God," Sherlock called in a voice he hardly recognise. He'd started this whole night thinking that he was in control, but the feelings John was giving him were making him feel quite helpless. "Don't stop . . ." he said more quietly.

John started moving his hips in and out, moaning and murmuring Sherlock's name. It felt incredible. He kissed Sherlock's mouth hard and sloppy, panting as he gripped Sherlock's hips. 

Sherlock looked into John's eyes. "Is this what you wanted to feel? Is what you imagined?" he asked.

John nodded, holding Sherlock's gaze. "Yes . . . God yes . . ." he moaned. "I -- I'm close," he added, sliding a hand to Sherlock's cock to keep stroking him.  

"Hard, John, fast . . . " Sherlock moaned loudly, closing his eyes and dropping his head again. 

John sped up his hand and his hips, pushing hard and fast into Sherlock as his hand matched the pace. "Come -- I want to see you," John demanded. 

"I'm --" Sherlock started but it was too late. His body jerked and tightened and he sucked in his breath. "John, God . . ." he called as he spilled over John's hand and his belly. "God . . ."

John watched Sherlock's face, watched his body and marvelled at the sound of his voice. He was gorgeous. A second later John was coming himself, shuddering as he pressed deep into Sherlock. 

Sherlock watched John and then closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

John nodded. "Yeah. Are you?" he asked softly. 

"Yes," Sherlock said, nodding. "But I need to lower my arms." He smiled at John.

"Oh," John said, pushing up. He slowly eased out of Sherlock, tossed the condom in the bin, and found the two small keys to unlock the cuffs. "Better?"

"Yeah," Sherlock said. He wasn't quite sure what to say. He couldn't remember how he'd felt about starting this whole thing a little while ago, and he wasn't sure how he felt now. There was an overload of feelings and thoughts and urges in his brain and body. "Are we done now?" he asked quietly.

John wasn't sure exactly what Sherlock meant. "Sure," he said. "Whatever you want."


	3. The Investigation Continues

"Well . . .I don't see why we have to stop," Sherlock said. If this had been about indulging John's fantasies, Sherlock wanted to do them all. "It's not that late, is it?"

"No, not really," John said. "I just thought . . .I don't know."

"Do you want to stop is what I'm asking, John," Sherlock said. "I don't," he added quickly.

John shook his head. "No, I don't."

Sherlock lay quietly for a few moments. "Do you want to try something else in the box or just . . ." he asked.

John nodded. "Something else or . . . or you could just . . . I just want to feel what it's like," he admitted.

"I'm sure I can oblige," Sherlock said. "Let's wait a few more minutes until we've properly caught our breath." He let his arm rest lightly around John's back.

"Okay," John said softly. He closed his eyes and just focused on Sherlock's touch, the feel of his arm on John's back. And soon it would be Sherlock's mouth and the thought made him shiver with anticipation.

"And the cuffs?" Sherlock asked. "Will they be involved at all?" He closed his eyes in case John felt awkward. "In the videos . . . I didn't know which way you'd imagined it, so I just picked one. If you'd prefer, you know, the other . . . we can do that."

"I imagined both," John admitted. He closed his eyes as well, it was easier that way for some reason. "I want to be tied up as well . . . ordered around, that sort of thing."

"All right," Sherlock said softly. "That information is useful." He lay there for a little while. "Are you feeling rested now?" he eventually asked.

John nodded, turning his head towards Sherlock. "Do you think about this? Did I do it okay for you?" He kept his eyes closed, still nervous.

"I think you know the answer . . . there's evidence all over my stomach, isn't there?" Sherlock smiled lightly even though John's eyes were closed. He pressed a light kiss on John's forehead. "You were excellent," he said quietly.

John opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock, who was very close now. "I liked it too," he said.

"You'll tell me, right, if I do something you don't like," Sherlock said. He slid one hand from John's shoulder down to his wrist, which he gripped tightly before lifting it over his head and clicking it into one of the cuffs. "I think the other can stay free," he said as he shifted John onto his back and then lifted himself over John's body. "Shall we get back to work?"

John looked up at his wrist and nodded. Heat was already flooding his groin.

Sherlock reached over and grabbed John's other wrist, lifting it towards his cuffed hand. "Perhaps I could trust you to hold this one here for a few minutes, until I say you can move it," he said. Then he shifted off of John and moved the box closer. He took out a plug, the lube and a condom before putting the box on the floor. He set all three items towards the bottom of the bed and then straddled John's hips. He reached down and held himself before looking at John's face. "As I said, I've not had sex for quite some time -- long before you moved in. However," he said, as he started to slowly stroke himself. "This does not mean I've not had sexual feelings . . . perhaps thought a bit about it . . . with you. And now I know you're even better than I had imagined." He watched John as his cock began to harden from his hand's movement.

"You can trust me," John said, but as he watched Sherlock stroking himself he wanted to touch as well. He gripped the bed to be sure. "I'm new at this, but I'm very good at sex," he said cheekily.

"Yes, I know that now," Sherlock smiled. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm thinking of it now," he added. "Do you like watching me?"

John moved his eyes from Sherlock's cock to his face as if he'd been caught. "Yes," he admitted.

"I like that you're watching me," Sherlock said. His voice sounded breathy again. "I want to watch you." He reached up for John's free hand and led it down to John's cock. "Show me," he instructed, scooting down so he hovered over John's thighs.

John looked at Sherlock's cock again before he started stroking his own at the same pace, his breath becoming a bit heavier.

"Yes," Sherlock mumbled, watching John as they both touched themselves. Then Sherlock moved further down and sat between John's open legs. "Don't stop, but don't come," he said as he reached over for the lube.

"I won't," John mumbled, even though he couldn't promise anything. Sherlock's moving between his legs was quite a sight.

Sherlock poured some lube into his hand and began slowly massaging John's inner thigh before moving his hand to slick John's balls and between his legs. "You'll tell me to stop if you want me to," he said. He let his fingers drift over John's hole. He wasn't sure if John had ever done anything like this -- if it was all new to him, Sherlock wanted to make sure this was the best experience John could have. "I'll stop if you want me to," he repeated as he slowly pushed the tip of one finger inside John.

"I know I -- please don't stop," he murmured, trying to stay still as Sherlock pushed into his body.

"That's good, John," Sherlock said softly. He leaned down and nipped lightly at John's thigh as he began to pulse his finger. "Keep your hand moving . . ." he instructed. "I want you to feel like you're going to explode, but I'm not going to let you come just yet."

John shivered and nodded quickly, still moving his hand. He wasn't gripping too tightly, not wanting to come before he was allowed to.

Sherlock slid another finger inside and then began to pump them again. He reached over and picked up the plug, just holding it in his free hand. He moved his mouth back to John's thigh, biting a little harder this time as put a light pressure on John's prostate. He made a low growl in his throat as he felt John's body responding.

That sound! Christ, it was the sexiest thing John had ever heard. "Sherlock," he whined softly. "Yes . . . please . . ."

"I'm going to do something different now, John," Sherlock said, sitting himself up a little. He slowly slid his fingers from John's body and grabbed the lube again. This time he rubbed his hands over the plug and then slicked John's hole again. "If this is new, your body will need to adjust a little. This will help get you ready," he explained and then looked up at John. "So that when I fuck you, it will feel nothing but good. Keep moving your hand, all right?" He pressed the end of the plug against John's hole but didn't push it in yet.

"It is new," he said, tugging his hand before remembering he couldn't. He kept the other one moving slow and soft. "I will," he nodded, wondering which of the two plugs it was, imagining what it was about to feel like sitting inside of him, opening him for Sherlock after. He moaned and pushed towards it. "Please."

Sherlock slowly pressed the tip in. "Relax your body . . . it shouldn't feel all that different, just a bit . . . more of a stretch," Sherlock said. He kept slowly pushing it in as he looked up. "Don't stop moving your hand. Watching you is driving me crazy, John. I can't wait to fuck you."

John tried to breath and relax and take the plug easily. It was definitely bigger than Sherlock's fingers -- he could feel his body stretching to take it. 

"That's good,"" Sherlock said again. Once the plug was settled inside of John, Sherlock massaged John's thighs as he asked, "Feel okay?"

John shivered and nodded. He really felt the plug -- the newness of it all made it felt bigger than he knew it actually was.

"Don't think about it -- I need you do something for me now," Sherlock said. "Lift your hand above your head now. No more touching for you." He kept rubbing John's thighs as he waited for John to do as he'd asked.

John whimpered as he stopped and pulled his hand away, lifting it over his head again. "Please?" he murmured, unsure what he was even asking for now. 

Sherlock leaned over John's body, putting kisses along his collarbone. Then he dropped down to nuzzle each of John's nipples, sucking hard and nipping them with his teeth. He slid one hand down to hold John's cock. It was hot and hard in his hand, but he didn't start stroking yet. "Do you like to be teased, John?" he asked. 

John was making all kinds of small noises, trying to not only keep still but to resist burying his hand in Sherlock's hair. Biting his lip, he risked it and touched him softly, unable to help it when he bit at John's nipples. "Yes . . " he murmured. 

Sherlock lifted his head. "Hand up, I said," he said sharply. He moved his body back down John's, straddling his thighs again. He looked down at John's cock but didn't touch it. Instead he went back to stroking himself. "I could be doing this to you instead," he said. "But you disobeyed."

John gripped the headboard. "Sorry -- I'm sorry," he said breathlessly. "Please touch me like that."

"But this feels good," Sherlock said, closing his eyes again. "I'm thinking about what it'll feel like to fuck you . . . I hope I get the chance but I'm worried you'll break the rules again."

"I won't, I won't," John insisted. He looped his wrist through the headboard and gripped the back. 

Sherlock moved further back and then leaned over. He trailed his tongue down John's abdomen and then exhaled over John's cock. It smelled of sex and Sherlock flicked his tongue to just touch the tip. "I like to tease you," he said, breathing out over him again.

John groaned in his attempt to keep still, worried if he pushed up Sherlock would stop for good. "Please," he sighed, moaning softly. 

"Please what, John?" Sherlock whispered. He moved his hand to hold John's cock, putting his mouth close to it but still not putting his mouth on it.

"God," John moaned heavily. "Please suck me off . . . please. . ."

Sherlock swallowed John down, taking his cock all the way down his throat. He lifted his head up and swirled his tongue around the tip before sucking him down again. He took him in and out of his throat quickly, tasting the precome leaking for John's cock.

John called out, his hand coming down and stopping just short of Sherlock's hair. He groaned and gripped the head board again, panting heavily. "Good . . . so good," he moaned. 

Sherlock lifted his head. "Good, John," he said, rewarding him with more attention to his cock. His hand moved down and pulled lightly on his balls, before touching the end of the plug to remind John what would soon be happening.

"Thank you," John mumbled, writhing lightly. Everything was so good, he felt like his brain was short circuiting.

Sherlock lifted his head from John's cock, still stroking it with his hand. He leaned over John's body again, thrusting his own cock into John's thigh. He reached up John's arm, grabbing his free hand and setting it on his head. "Pull my hair," he growled into John's ear. "I'm so close . . . I could come right now."

John's fingers tightened and pulled Sherlock's curls hard. "In me," he mumbled, his mouth hanging open and seeking Sherlock's.

Sherlock kissed John's mouth hard, grabbing John's own hair and pulling it. He moved himself back down John's body. "Breathe deeply," he said, touching the plug lightly.

John immediately took a deep breath, then another, trying to look down.

Sherlock slowly pulled the plug from John's body. He reached over and opened a condom, sliding it on, and adding a bit more lube. He looked down at John, open for him. "Hand over your head again," he instructed. "Until I say." He quickly reached up and kissed John's mouth. "I'll stop if you want me to," he whispered quickly before moving back down between John's legs. He held himself and slowly began pushing into John's body.

John gripped the sheet this time. When Sherlock entered him, the similar stretch back again, he let his legs fall open a bit more, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

"God, you feel good," Sherlock moaned. He put a hand down on either side of John's body and immediately began pumping into him. "You feel so good," he moaned again.

"You do," John mumbled, the words spilling out in time with Sherlock's thrusts.

"Is it what you imagined?" Sherlock huffed. "What else? Tell me." He kept pushing into John's tightness. It was filling his own body with tension. 

John tugged at his cuffed hand, gripping the bed with the other one so he wouldn't touch Sherlock or himself yet. ""Can I touch? Please . . ."

"Not until I say," Sherlock grunted. "I want you to feel good just from being fucked." He dropped his head and kissed John's mouth, biting his bottom lip softly. He moaned loudly -- he wanted John to know just how good this was making him feel.

John leaned up for more kiss, panting and huffing heavily.

"Touch now," Sherlock ordered. "Make yourself come -- I want to feel you come around me."  
  
John tugged his cuffed hand before remembering his other hand was free. He brought it down and stroked himself hard and fast. It didn't take long. He gasped before he came on his belly, squeezing around Sherlock as he called out, shuddering with pleasure. 

"Gorgeous --" the word slid from Sherlock's throat and then he too was coming, pushing hard into John, connecting in a way that they never had before. A way that would make everything different. But that wasn't what Sherlock was thinking -- he wasn't thinking, he was just feeling, nothing but good.

John felt another wave of pleasure at the growled word, moaning softly and murmuring Sherlock's name over and over. He was beautiful, always, and even more when he was lost like that.

Sherlock stayed still for a few moments inside John's body, before sliding to his side and flopping onto the bed beside him. He tried to catch his breath and then remembered John's arm, so he quickly leaned over to grab the key and uncuff his wrist. He lay back down again, still panting lightly. His body was warm and damp with sweat. "You okay?" he asked softly.

John slid down lay flat, lowering his arm down slowly as he caught his breath. "Yes," he said. He felt boneless, melting into the bed. He'd never felt pleasure like that before.


	4. The Investigation Finishes

John wanted to turn and curl into Sherlock, cuddle with him while they slept, but he didn't know if he should. What if this was just an experiment? Just a one time, 'this is what it would be like' thing? "You okay?" he asked him.

"Yeah, my body's a bit sore but that's to be expected, I suppose," Sherlock said, shifting to get a bit more comfortable. "You'll be sore tomorrow if you're not already." He was feeling more settled as he turned his head to wipe his face across the pillow. "I'm exhausted if I'm truthful. Are you?"

"I'm a bit sore but . . . it's nice," he said, flushing softly. "I like it."

"But are you sleepy?" Sherlock asked again.

John nodded but couldn't figure out why he kept bringing that up. Was he trying to hint something to John? "I -- I can go to my room if you'd rather…" he mumbled. The thought of moving now made him want to die. He was so comfortable and wanted to just pull up the covers, cuddle, and sleep.

"I mean . . . if you're too tired, you can just stay here, I guess," Sherlock said. He rolled on his side away from John. "Night then," he said.

John looked over at him for a moment. He was too tired to think about what all this meant. "Good night," he said softly. He turned on his side away from Sherlock, tugging the covers up around his shoulders.

Sherlock lay quietly for a few moments. "So your curiosity? It's been satisfied now?"

John opened his eyes again. "Um . . . yeah," he nodded.

"I mean, you've done it to a man, a man's done it to you, there were handcuffs, I mean . . . everything from the videos, right?"

"Right," John said quietly. He closed his eyes again and hoped that would be the end of it. There was too much to think about, and he was too tired to think.

"I mean, now you know everything, so . . . I don't suppose there's any reason to . . ." Sherlock said. He swallowed awkwardly. "Well . . . unless you think of something else. Have you thought of something else? Can you think of anything else . . . at all that you want to try . . . I mean, if there's something else you want to try, maybe I could, I mean . . . can you think of anything else at all, John? Please?"

John flushed as if Sherlock could read his mind. Did Sherlock want more as well? Why was Sherlock rambling like that? "Um . . . do you mean more sex stuff?" he asked softly, gripping the bed sheet.

"I mean, I don't know . . . we could think of something . . ." Sherlock said. "We could do something, John. Can't we keep just . . . doing something?"

"Sherlock, I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," he mumbled.

"Forget it," Sherlock exhaled. He lay there for a few moments. "I was just," he started again. "I was just wondering if we could keep . . . can we just keep doing something?" He sighed. "Just…" he started but didn't finish. He turned over and curled around John. He grabbed John's hand. "Like this . . . is this okay?"

"Yes," John whispered. He squeezed Sherlock's hand. "I want this too," he said.

"If you insist," Sherlock said. He put a soft kiss on the back of John's neck.

"Don't you want to?" John asked softly.

"Have you ever known me to do something I didn't want to?" Sherlock asked. 

"No. But relationship stuff . . . I just wasn't sure," John admitted. 

"Relationship stuff? Yeah -- being around each other all the time, enjoying each other's company, maybe even living together . . . yeah, I can see what you were confused about whether or not I'd be interested in something that," Sherlock said. He pinched John's hand lightly.

"Stop teasing!" John said.

"You said you liked teasing," Sherlock responded.

"I know but . . .I would have never guessed you wanted anything to do with this."

"And yet you expected me to guess that you wanted this?" Sherlock laughed. "Yeah, you've given thousands of clues that you wanted to have sex with a man." 

"I left better clues than you did," John pointed out.

"What a liar," Sherlock said. "You've done nothing but shout about how much you weren't interested."

"But I left clues on your computer! And . . .well, that was all but you didn't leave any at all. I didn't know you wanted any of this."

"Another lie," Sherlock said. "You left clues on my computer _yesterday._ I started leaving clues from day one."

John gasped. "You did not!"

"You mean when I got you moved in here? When I interrupted every date you went on? When I stood at your door each night watching you sleep? Those weren't clues?"

"What did you do?" John asked surprised.

"Okay, I didn't do the last one but still . . . I started thinking about this long before you did, I can guarantee that."

John wasn't sure. "The dates . . .that was just you being bored and I moved in because I wanted to." 

"All right, John," Sherlock said. "Believe what you want." He stroked his hand lightly.

"You know I don't see things like you. And with the thought buried in my head that love stuff was off limits . . ." he said.

"So you think you 'love stuff' me then?" Sherlock asked. "So your plan wasn't just to use me for sex stuff but there might be love stuff as well?"

John flushed lightly. "I -- of course I do," he murmured. "It wasn't just about sex."

"Those videos were just about sex," Sherlock said. "I didn't find any clues about 'love stuff', did I?

"You don't need clues because I am telling you," he said.  

"Shush now, John," Sherlock said. "Are you always going to be so talkative after sex?" He made a little yawn. "I'm going to go to sleep now so if you're going to keep speaking can you do so more quietly, please?" 

"Oh shut up," John said. He shifted and closed his eyes. "Good night," he said softly.

"Good night, John," Sherlock whispered. "I'm glad about what's happened."

John drifted off to sleep, his fingers laced in Sherlock's and his body tucked close. He felt different. Everything felt different, but it had all been precisely what he'd wanted.


End file.
